Skin
by AngelCallie
Summary: Some fugitives put the Colonel and his First Lieutenant in a rather compromising position.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal, 'kay?**

**Skin**

Roy woke slowly, a feeling not entirely unlike a hangover making his eyelids lazy and his head spin. He was dimly aware of the warmth of another body in his arms but it took a moment for his eyes to clear and his brain to catch up.

Riza Hawkeye was asleep beside him.

She was beautiful, her sleeping face as peaceful as he had always imagined it as her even breaths escaped her like little sighs. Her cheek was resting against his shoulder, her lips less than an inch from his bare skin. Her blonde hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and falling across her chest, tracing the shape of her breasts like streams of gold.

He felt electrified and his brain jumped immediately from sleepy fog straight into the broad daylight of panic. How had this happened? Where were they? Why couldn't he remember anything after the start of the mission? And, possibly most importantly, where were Riza's guns? He could feel her breath against his bare chest, her arms wrapped around him, their exposed legs tangled together, and for a moment his senses would admit to nothing else in the world. But the military mind of the Colonel soon took over, crushing his panic down and starting to assess the situation.

Bending his neck to look down at her, he could see she was wearing a thin cotton undershirt, dark against her pale skin, and light blue underwear. He ignored the surge of blood through his body as he took in the sight of her long legs and round, perfect thighs. He himself was wearing only black boxers. The room they were was small and the only light was coming from a small window high up on the wall. It was probably a large closet or small storage room of some kind.

When Roy attempted to move his leg from its position on top of hers, he felt the tug of rope. His ankles were tied together, trapping one of Riza's legs between his and the other beneath them. Beginning to catch on, he tried to pull his arm away only to find his wrists tied together as well.

"Mmm," Riza hummed in her sleep, drawing herself in closer to him. He pretended his heart did not speed up as her mouth grazed his skin and her hair tickled on his shoulder. As she shifted her arms, he thought he felt the roughness of rope on her wrists touching his back along with the softness of her skin.

"Lieutenant," he said quietly, consciously making himself use her rank rather than her name despite the . . . intimacy of the situation. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, wake up."

"Mmnn," she grumbled, crinkling her nose. "Colonel?"

"Yes, lieutenant," he said, registering the fact that his voice sounded a little strange.

"What are you doing here?" She tried to draw her arms toward herself and Roy was certain that he felt the rope this time. Her eyes opened, slowly at first as a calm, content smile spread across her lips. His heart raced as he looked at her, telling himself that now was no time for fantasies, despite the fact that he desperately wished that smile was really for him and wouldn't disappear as soon as she was fully awake. Her eyes grew wider as she recognized him and her smile vanished into a look of panic that overtook her features for only a moment as her body froze against him.

"Sir," she said, her voice something between worried and dangerous. "What is going on here?"

"I'm unsure," he answered, so aware of her wakened body that he almost couldn't think. "I can't remember how we got in this . . . predicament. Can you?"

She shook her head, her face serious. "No, sir, but the heavy feeling in my head seems to suggest that we might have been drugged."

"That makes sense." He could still feel the swimming sensation in his own head and he was glad to believe it was drugs rather than . . . something else. He glanced down at her body again as if that would provide him with answers. All it did was plant a sudden angry dread like ice in the pit of his stomach. "Are you all right, lieutenant?" he asked carefully, almost afraid of what he would do if his fear proved true. "You're not . . . injured at all, are you?"

She shifted uncomfortably with his eyes boring so seriously into hers. "No, sir, no injuries. I'm fine. And you?"

"I'm all right, Hawkeye." He didn't try to hide the relief in his voice. "Let's sit up and assess our situation." She nodded and together they pulled themselves up into a sitting position. She bent her legs to allow for the movement of his and he felt another surge of blood as her knee came to rest against his inner thigh.

"Whoever did this certainly thought about it," she said, her voice impossibly calm. "We can't even stand for the way they've tied our legs together, and they made sure we wouldn't be able to get our arms apart either."

Roy noticed then that one of his arms passed over the top of hers and the other was threaded beneath her other arm, so they could not just lift their arms over each other's heads to get them free.

"Sir, may I," she paused and though she kept her face carefully calm he could see the hot blush on her chest that betrayed her. "May I look over your shoulder to see if I can get my hands free?"

He swallowed hard and tried to quiet his pounding heart. He knew there were other things to think of – the mission, the culprits, the rest of the unit – but he couldn't keep his mind off his first lieutenant. He had wanted her for so long, since they were young. He had wondered what it would be like to touch her, to _kiss_ her, and now those thoughts were banging around his head so loudly they left little room for anything else. "Proceed, lieutenant."

She gave a curt nod and shifted, pulling her bound feet behind her so she could kneel straddling his bent leg. She scooted closer to him, seemingly unaware of how close her knee was to his groin. Hesitating for just a breath, she pressed her chest against his and rested her chin on his shoulder. Roy let his hands sit lightly on the small of her back, careful not to let them travel south one inch despite their maddening curiosity.

After a moment she became absorbed in her work to untie her hands and seemed almost not to notice his body close against hers. She leaned against him, her hair falling against his face, smelling like lilies and sweat and gunpowder and _Riza_, the soft rise and fall of her chest seeming to breathe him in as well and lose him in the minutia of her every movement. She pushed forward in concentration, her pelvis coming in contact with his abdomen, the soft blue cotton setting his hypersensitive body on fire. He tried to pull away a little, to move his lower body away from hers at least, but at that moment she repositioned herself, bringing her whole body flush against his as she brought her hands up to her mouth to set her teeth at the knot.

"So!" he said, his voice cracking nervously and making him feel even more like a hormonal teenage boy. "Why do you suppose they took our uniforms?"

"They probably thought they could get away easier if they disguised themselves as soldiers. It would make it simple enough for them to get through the perimeter." He almost didn't hear her words for the pleasant vibration of her voice against his collarbone.

"That makes sense," he said, trying to sound very, very serious. "But that means we have to get after them as soon as possible."

"Judging from the light, I'd say we've probably been out about an hour," she said. He fought to concentrate on her voice despite a slight movement of her hips. "The others probably started looking for us as soon as they realized we were out of contact."

This woman . . . this woman in his arms . . . was impossible. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, the warmth of her skin, her breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He wanted her, had wanted her for so long he almost couldn't remember a time before his skin begged for hers, his fingers itching to reach for her. And he loved her - _god_, he loved her, like nothing else existed but golden hair and warm brown eyes – but actually having her was something he had long ago accepted as impossible. She was too precious, too important to him to ever touch. Yet here she was, impossible possible, all smooth skin and barely clothed and in his arms, her body pressed against his, hips, arms, chest, thighs –_god, her thighs_ – dangerous, dangerous because he wanted to forget they were tied up, forget they were trapped, forget the mission, forget the bad guys and the good guys and everyone in his unit looking for them and the Fuhrer and the army and just pull her close and cover her with kisses and tell her how completely, completely lost he feels whenever she leaves a room.

"Sir?" she said, voice soft and questioning. He realized then that his hands were holding her against him, effectively pinning her to his chest so that she couldn't pull away. He loosened his grip and she leaned back, his chest protesting and startled at the sudden lack of her body heat.

"The knots are tough," she said, looking straight into his eyes. He, however, was captivated by the motion of her lips so close, he wanted to cover them with his and drink in her words like sweet wine, warm in his mouth and dizzy beautiful. "Sir?" Now her voice was stern but a little desperate and it made his insides feel as if they were on fire. He loved her completely, wanted her passionately, and here she was, impossible, unattainable, but so close that he could have leaned down only inches and taken her mouth with ease. "Colonel!" she said more sharply, that desperation finally reaching her eyes, mingling in with the dark honey color of her irises and bringing him back to reality.

"Sorry, lieutenant. I don't think whatever they drugged us with is fully out of my system yet," he said, though he was fairly sure his intoxicated distraction was due more to the extreme proximity of his lieutenant than the after effect of some chemical.

She hesitated. It was strange to see any sort of trepidation on her face, since she was usually so steely.

"Do you want to try to get your wrists undone, sir?" she finally asked, and from the thickness of her voice he could tell that she was not entirely unaffected by their situation either. "Maybe you'll have more luck."

_Luck, ha_. "Sure."

They renegotiated their positions again, Riza drawing her legs out from under herself and parting her knees so that Roy could kneel in front of her. She bent one leg to accommodate his bound feet. He could feel the quickening of her breathing against his chest as he leaned over her and, though her face was turned slightly away, he could see the pink blush spreading over her cheeks and down her pale neck. He put his chin on her shoulder now and their chests came back in contact with a warm feeling that went far beyond the places where their skin touched. The few inches of advantage he had over her in height made her back bend slightly against him as her bound hands held tight against his lower back to keep her from tipping backwards. Her rapid breathing thundered in his ears almost as loudly as his own speeding pulse. He bent his arms along the sides of her body in an effort to bring the bindings close to his face and his elbows ghosted carefully against the curve of her hips. He brought the rope to his mouth and bit down hard, his jaw tensing to the point of pain. Riza shivered.

"Making any progress, sir?" she asked, her voice strangely breathy, making him clamp his teeth down harder.

"Not yet, lieutenant," he answered after a moment. He dug his teeth back into the thick rope, tearing at it with all his frustration but doing it no real damage. Still, it made him feel a little better.

"Colonel," she whispered, and he froze as the word tickled over his ear. "Do you hear that?"

He held his breath and listened, his body stone still. There was the sound of heavy footsteps nearby, maybe right outside of the room they were trapped in. Seconds later there was a pounding at the door.

"They're trying to break in!" The sound of something hitting the door like a battering ram followed her statement as if to confirm it. Without thinking, Roy dropped down on the floor on top of Riza, using his own body to shield her from whoever was about to bust in.

"Colonel!" she yelped just as the door was finally kicked in. Silence followed. Roy lifted his head. Riza was looking past him, toward the door with a slightly horrified expression. He looked over his shoulder and saw Fuery standing there, slack-jawed and red as a beet.

"Fuery!" he barked, much more harshly than the young officer deserved.

"I'm sorry, sir!" he replied, turning impossibly redder but not moving an inch.

"Get over here and untie us, dammit!"

"Yes, sir!" he hurried over and set himself to undoing the ropes around Riza's wrists, as she was still lying beneath the colonel. Roy could feel Fuery's hands shaking nervously as he pulled out a pocketknife and began to cut the rope.

"Fuery! Did you find them?" Havoc's voice heralded his arrival, Breda one step behind him, and they both stood wide-eyed in the doorway for a moment.

Then they started laughing.

"Oh, I'm glad you all find this so funny," Roy snapped. That only made them laugh harder.

"Our little fugitives seem to have put you in quite a compromising position," said Havoc.

Roy was now almost as red as poor Fuery, though it was as much from anger as from embarrassment. Riza, however, had managed not to blush at all and glared daggers at her two jovial subordinates as she sat up, rubbing her newly freed wrists. Breda and Havoc swallowed their laughter pretty quickly after that.

Riza then ducked out from the circle of Roy's arms as Fuery started to cut away his bonds. She bent to untie her ankles, still somehow looking demure despite her state of disrobement and the strange position of her legs. She had them undone quickly enough – the knots there were not quite as secure it seemed as those on their wrists – and untied his feet as well. Fuery stepped back as soon as Roy's hands were free, still too stunned and nervous to think of helping Riza up. So she placed her hands on Roy's shoulders and leaned forward, grazing her lips against his cheek and smiling a little secretly as she stood. Roy sat on the floor a moment longer, slightly stunned and enjoying the more than perfect view of her long bare legs before scrambling to his feet. His ogling crew had to be brought to attention (and have their attention turned away from the half-naked lieutenant, he thought, bristling with something he refused to call jealousy).

"Fuery, give Hawkeye your coat," he shouted, making the poor sergeant almost jump out of his skin. "Havoc, I'll have yours. Where's Falman?"

"He's at the end of the street in the car," Havoc answered as he shrugged off his coat.

Fuery handed his to Riza, still blushing like a schoolboy. "Here you go, lieutenant," he said falteringly, making a conscious effort to keep his eyes on her face as he nervously adjusted his glasses.

"Thank you, Fuery," she answered softly, unintentionally brushing his fingers as she took the garment. His blush spread all the way out to his ears and he watched dumbly as she pulled his coat on to cover her bare skin, deftly fastening it over her chest to where it ended just below her knees.

"Let's go!" said Roy, once again forcing all eyes back onto him. "Havoc, take Breda and Fuery and make sure this area is secure. Hawkeye and I will go back to base and get the general to shut down the train station so they can't get out of town. Keep your eyes open for suspicious looking people in military uniforms."

Havoc snickered and hurried off with Breda and Fuery in tow. Hawkeye stood beside Roy, looking businesslike and fierce despite her bare feet and exposed legs.

"I don't suppose you keep a spare uniform at the office, do you sir?" she asked, that strange, almost invisible smile still on her lips.

"Sadly, no," he said, leading her out the door and down the street toward where Falman was waiting in the car. "I didn't foresee this particular issue."

"Nor me." Her smile broadened inexplicably but she kept her voice serious. "It's going to look awfully strange when we show up in my grandfather's office in all this state. What _will_ he think?"

Roy's brain froze for a moment. As if it wasn't bad enough that Havoc and Breda had seen them, he was inever/i going to hear the end of this from Grumman. He could see the general's knowing smile already. The perversity of the universe was almost enough to make him laugh out loud, though, because although he knew he was facing endless teasing and innuendo from both his superiors and his subordinates, he could not get his mind to linger on anything other than the feather-light touch of her lips against his cheek and the possibility that contact suggested.

Maybe it wasn't so impossible after all.

A/N: This was written for the Royai community on lj, for the Royai Stuck Together challenge. It was too fun to write. It's not perfect by a long shot, and I'm not really in love with the ending, but there it is.


End file.
